I have a lawyer.

So, now I have a lawyer. That's kind of fun.
A month ago I was shocked to find on the traffic citation I had received a court date and time. I was a little surprised and admittedly excited. I was charged with driving 16 miles per hour over the posted speed limit.
"You know what the speed limit is son?", the unmarked cop said to the ONLY car on the four-lane major thoroughfare at 12:30 in the morning. (That's 0030 in cop speak.)
"I'm guessing it's alot less than what I was going."
"Uh, yeah."
Aside from the blunder of being "smart" with the cop, I followed all the rules of what-to-do-when-you're-pulled-over-to-get-out-of-a-ticket-as-a-male. Dome light on, hands on the steering wheel, music off, yes sir, no sir.
"Uh, yeah."
So, I had a court date, and a court time, and it was earlier this evening. Had no trouble finding the courthouse, sorry, the East Government Center, because I've been there several times before. The first ticket I got a mere four or five months ago led me there in the form of traffic school.
"Sir, you have to have a Kentucky driver's license to go to traffic school."
"Can I do that?"
"Yes."
"Where do I need to go to make that happen?"
"You're here." Lucky me.
"Umm. So. I mean do I take a number or...? How does that work?"
"Just sit in that chair and smile." I love Kentucky.
If you would, allow an aside: I've met people in Kentucky who actually believe that if you're designated as an organ donor on your driver's license, and in a major accident, the e.m.t.'s on the scene wil honest to goodness let you die. Some organ donors (identified by an orange sticker next to your picture) have even been killed. "First thing those vultures do is look in your wallet to see if they can let you die, no sir, not for me. I ain't no organ donor."
6:30 pm.
I arrive a half hour early for my big date with justice. I paced for a few minutes then had a seat in the hallway outside the courtroom. A well dressed, white-haired man has a seat next to me. My new friend.
"You here for court?" The man asked (most ridiculous question of the day by the way).
"You got me." I was sitting with a ticket in one hand and a checkbook in the other.
When he asked to see my ticket I realized that we weren't at court for the same reasons.
"Ooooh. Sixteen over, that's six points. Insurance up 30 percent sometimes." His words were chosen with the precision of a surgeon. "Have you been to traffic school?"
"Yes, four months ago."
"That's not good. That's the first thing the judge is going to ask you. Have you been to traffic school. No, that's not good that you've already been." I'm getting worried. "Do you have a lawyer?"
"No."
"That's not good either. No, they'll just give you the points. But with a lawyer, you know, things open up. We can drop that moving violation, change it to something else, faulty equipment, you know? No points that way." I didn't know. This was a whole new world to me.
"How much would that cost?" Honest question.
"Eighty-five dollars." Immediate answer.
"And the likelihood of what you're saying actually happening, I mean would they really change it?"
"Oh, yeah."
"Well, I guess it's too late for any of that now." Puppy dog eyes.
"Oh no. I uh, I can do it. I've got a couple of cases pending but I can represent you as well." This sounds kind of funny but it kind of felt like he was asking me out.
I looked up and shook the hand of my new lawyer. "Do you have a pen? Who do I make the check out to?"
David E. Klein, Attorney at Law began coaching me from that point. "When the sheriff let's you in just sit to the side and when the judge calls your name, don't you move. Don't stand up. Don't speak. I'll speak for you. When I'm done I'll walk out and you get up and come right behind me." Not going to lie, at this point I was pretty stoked. I had hired a lawyer. He was coaching me. This. This was kind of cool. Sheriff let us in, I sat down at the end, my attorney was up front talking. It's ten minutes to seven, criminals are still pouring in the door. David E. Klein motions to me, we walk out. "We're finished."
"What?"
"We're done?"
"Did it work?"
"Work? (snicker followed by grin) Yeah, it worked."
New day, new experience, new lesson learned. Never go to court without a lawyer. And if at all possible hire one that wears a gold, diamond encrusted, horseshoe pinky ring.